


Burning Monsters

by SpaceAsthmatic



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Break Up, Dorks in Love, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Falling In Love, Forbidden Love, Friendship/Love, Idiots in Love, Near Death Experiences, Pre-Battle of Five Armies, Pre-War of the Ring, Protective Legolas Greenleaf, Relationship Issues, Running Away, Sad with a Happy Ending, Secret Relationship, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:08:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24039403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceAsthmatic/pseuds/SpaceAsthmatic
Relationships: Legolas Greenleaf & Original Female Elf Character(s), Legolas Greenleaf/Original Female Elf Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Burning Monsters

‘Somebody please help me,’ his heart whispered in desperation, ‘I’m turning into something I don't want to be, something I don't know how to stop. A monster that’s covered in sins from his head down to his toes.”’ 

* * *

‘Go ahead’ her heart challenged, ‘If you want a battle, I’ll give you war. No heart is born black, but luckily mine has already been burned and scarred.’

* * *

  
  


The first casualty of war is always innocence. The first body to fall, and the first blood to spill. It never got any easier to witness, no matter how many times I took new recruits out and have to witness it. 

The look of shock and fundamental change on their faces. The change in their posture and their eyes, already growing more comfortable around the shadows than they had been that morning. 

I hate that I know what has begun for them. I knew which hand had held itself out of the darkness and asked them to dance. I know because this waltz has been my punishment for countless years. 

Punishment for what, I am unsure. But I fail to think all of this is allowed to happen for no reason. 

My eyes meet Avaleina’s over the shoulders of the other and I know she is thinking the same, suffering the tune of the dance and the sights of each step. Watching as piece after piece of her falls to the forest floor. 

A trail of breadcrumbs to lead from the one she used to be, to whatever she needed to become. 

I look away from her to the Orc blood dripping from Rueben’s hand, and could not help but picture it as the leaking away of happy childhoods and carefree evenings. As the start to become something else, something you didn’t want to be. Had never wanted to be.

At least, that's how it felt to me. 

It was the start of the longest road I had ever taken from home without actually physically leaving, although now I am starting to wish that it would. So that nobody else would have to watch me slowly turn into the exact thing I was supposed to be sent out to destroy. 

Even so, I became just another monster loose in the forest who cannot help but wonder how many breadcrumbs I have left. 

* * *

I knew it lived at the back of my mind, where nobody else could see it. Where it had no name, yet was the voice in my head that was all but impossible to ignore. But the one I could never find, not really, as it slithers through my mind disguised as my own thoughts. 

Whispering, encouraging, rationalizing, justify, warping, chaning, mutating. 

Darkening.

Digging up the worst thoughts I have and pararding them around relentlessly for days, screaming but whispering at the same time the ‘truth’ that I have been trying so hard to ignore. 

The truth that this was all getting easier, even the things that should never get easier. Perhaps especially the things that should never get easier. My actions have stopped turning my stomach and freezing my blood. Instead of laying awake for hours or days, I think I might be falling asleep even quicker than before. 

‘Burn,’ the voice whispers. ‘Burn.’

I know that I’m turning into something other than myself. I knew this because only something fundamentally different than who I used to be would ever be able to make a home out of this unending hell. 

‘Only a fire like you thrive in the darkest places of the world,’ the voice whispers to me. 

‘I’m not thriving’ I tell it back, ‘I am hardly even surviving.’ 

* * *

  
  


“The rain is full of ghosts tonight,” Eloissa says to me and I just hardly manage a nod. The aforementioned ghosts haunt my sight and brain near every day and night. Their blood seeps into every space within me. The sounds of them pleading for life has never left me. 

I can feel her glance sideways at me apologetically, “I forgot that you were there, sorry Legolas.”

I just nod in the same manner, my eyes scanning every inch of our surroundings. Searching for weaknesses or openings that they might have left open, “I wish I could.” 

Eloissa says nothing in response, a trademark sign that she has known me for many years. An acceptance that silence is sometimes the only way to respond to me. It’s just easier for everybody this way. 

I can nearly taste the unanswered question from some of the other warriors now that the subject had been brought up: How had I managed to survive that night?

Because it will take a lot more than that to pierce the scale that I’ve grown, and the hide underneath is just as thick. I stopped being a normal elf years ago, it will take a lot more than that to kill me. 

It takes a monster to kill a monster; and I’ve ensured that I’m becoming the worst. 

I notice the opening in the defense, a small one but noticeable nonetheless, I point to it, “That part needs a better defense, all it would take is seven or eight determind orcs to make it through. Even with our arrows.” 

She frowns at me and tilts her head slightly to the left, “They will go another way once they notice their companions perishing, will they not?” 

“No,” The voice in my mind and I say together, it crackles with pleasure as I continue, “They don’t care about their companions. If they died, they did not deserve to return to base with them. I think you will find it much more likely that they use the bodies as leverage.” 

“Yes, Legolas.” She says, bowing slightly before scurrying off to see it done. 

‘Don’t feel bad,’ The void says to me, ‘you can only think like us for so long before parts of you become us.’

I ignore it. 

* * *

The first time that my heart beats in weeks is the very moment our eyes meet. The first time it has a reason to beat. Sometimes it feels like the only reason it beats. The sharp piercing pain of the darkness that has coated my soul is sent fleeing with haste in the presence of your light. 

The weight of all that I have done keeps me from going to you, keeps me from even taking a step. A breath. The earth pulls me down as if it believes creatures like me deserve to only stalk its depths. 

But then your arms are around me and as far as I am concerned, the ground can never touch me. 

“I missed you so much,” I whispered into your hair. So quiet not even a passing bee might hear, and your arms tighten around me and I can feel your pulse quicken. You can’t say the words, but I’ve always known what you meant without them anyways. 

* * *

Expect the unexpected and then prepare for it. That was what I had been told in drill, over and over again. That is what I have been forced to practice, over and over again. And practice I did, relentlessly. Because these were the words to live by: Prepare for the unexpected.

Always.

But this was not training, and nothing, not even Lord Ferdan could have prepared me for this. Nothing could have ever prepared me for the feeling of being forced to the bottom of the ocean, listening while others ask why I refuse to breathe.

Nobody can expect to be at war for a thousand years, and nobody can never expect to wish so many parts of themselves goodbye all the way through. Yet here I am packing up all my best qualities, and leaving with whatever is left. Swimming into the darkness that surrounds us with the same empty hollowness that it crawls with. 

And now the only me that's left,

The last one to exist, 

Lies securely in a spot, 

Just behind your ribs.

* * *

  
  


“Go!” I tell most of my patrol, not turning to make sure that they have followed my command before turning the other way to begin firing arrows to cover their escape. I hear the sound of four other bowstrings joining mine, and am comforted to know that at least the young ones will be safe. 

I can hear a great stomping and rumbling booming towards us, making even the orcs look over their shoulders with fear and apprehension. 

I stare unblinkingly into the dark, waiting for whatever is to come for me, maybe for the last time. But that bothers me little, as I am a part of a new breed that grew in a fire that is still reflected in our eyes. I don’t fear anything, not even darkness. Because if there is one thing darkness cannot stand, its fire, and I plan to go out blazing. 

* * *

When I asked my father to tell me about how he had met my mother, I think he had meant to be comforting. Lovely, even. But all it did was plant the seed for my biggest fear. 

It's a frightening thought, that in one second you can fall so deeply into love that it will take lifetimes to get over. Because if that is the case, it will take until the end of time to get you to stop haunting all the broken pieces of me. 

With another stolen glance, I know I’ve lost another lifetime in your eyes. 

I had never meant to fall in love with you at all, and then one day you smiled and I never stood a chance.

* * *

I know the same can never be true for you. 

But oh, my love.

I’ll never regret falling in love with you. 

* * *

  
  


The forest is dark around me, the only thing that still grows is unease. Leaving the leaves to rustle in the wind with murmured threats of death or disease. But not for me. 

Never for me. 

You see, we may be in the darkest parts of the forest. Maybe even in all the land. But oh so long ago I got darker, so now this monster is coming for your head. 

* * *

I knew that they meant for their expression to be soft and loving, but all I could see was pity. In their eyes shimmered the number of lives lost, and their tears held my personal account of that day. The simmer of their fear holds knowledge about all the burns I caused on that horrible, horrible day.

With eyes growing wider, Elladan continued to flip through the various random reports that Thranduil had allowed me to bring. The ones that did not contain any information, not really. But still just had enough allusions of doing so that nobody ever questioned it. 

Elrohir leaned over his brother's arm to get a better look for himself, and I stood from my chair and turned to the window. I have no interest in seeing their reactions to the things that I have done. The fire’s that I burn with.

I wonder what I look like in their eyes as they turn to me and say, “I will never know how you do it. How you manage to always get through it.” 

I know that I should not be smiling when I look back at them and say, “Well, the world gave me no other options, but I still intend to stay.”

I look back out the window, just because it is easier, “You’ll be surprised what you can do when there is no other way.

* * *

  
  
  


I’m scared deep into my soul.

Because you’ve taken a tight hold of me, 

When I need you to let go. 

I know too well the price that some pay for love. The price that is paid for a light when you’re surrounded by eternal night. I look to my father and can clearly see pain it still brings him. The one that knocks him to his knees. Because it still always hurts, even after all of this time it still hurts. And that's why,

I’m scared deep into my core,

Because I want you to bear your heart to me, 

Then to bear your soul. 

Please, hold onto me, 

And never let me go. 

* * *

  
  


As the forest looms ahead of me I cannot help but find comfort in the branches still. Even if there is no peace here, this place is still my home. I smile at the tree’s as I pass them by. Remembering all the voices that have promised to help change our lives. 

As I pass beneath the tree’s I remind myself that promises are nothing more than the sweetest lies. 

* * *

  
  


I look onwards with what I know is a blank stare, but I don’t have any energy to pretend otherwise right now. I just wait patiently for Ferdan to finish looking over the report, finish comparing the new map to the old. 

Once he’s done, he hands the papers back to me with sympathy, “How do you feel?” 

“I don’t,” I say, while stepping out into the hall. 

* * *

  
  


I love him, I really do, which is why I need to kill him. I need to save him in the only way left that I can. 

I put my knife against his throat and told him sweet goodbyes, promising all kinds of my own sweet lies. I tell him that he is going where the darkness can never find him again.

As the blood spills out and covers my hand, I whisper for him to have a safe journey to the far blessed lands.. 

When I turn back to the one’s still attacking, I can feel the fire in my eyes. There’s nothing left shield them from my intent to scorch this land. 

* * *

  
  


With you by my side and laughter in the air, I almost forget everything else. I forget the world around us, and pretty much anything beyond the bed. I forget who I am to everybody but you, which has always been my favorite version of myself anyways. 

When you kiss my lips, my arms, chest, or anywhere else that you please I can feel my scars begin to mend. Feel the wounds begin to close. And just for a little while, I can be myself again. I can forget where you start, and forget where I end. I can forget the darkness, the war, and other eternal things. 

The only thought interrupting me, is how lucky I am to have somebody I am so afraid to lose. 

Somebody I can compare to the ocean, 

Call you a hurricane. 

Then sit upon the shore, 

Begging for the rain. 

* * *

Time moves slowly for everything but the good, which passes with a blink. Then it's time for me to leave again. I have to twist myself back into the costume that almost feels more of a home than my skin does at this point. 

The costume that allows me to do anything that I need to do, especially the things that I don’t want to do. The costume that holds the broken pieces of me together like thread, as I continue to crumble at every edge. 

The fringes of the dark forest are already beginning to wind their way into my mind, reminding me that the show is about to begin. Just before curtain call, he pulls me hard against him. Whispering in my ear, “I’ll always love you the way certain things are meant to be loved, halfway between the darkness and halfway between my soul.”

* * *

  
  


The funny things you remember, as you watch somebody die. Like the one simple fact that everything I love gets taken away in the most awful of ways. I remember the screams of my mother, and how the branches had wrapped so tightly around my feet. 

I remember my father's scream of heartbreak, how his fists broke themselves when he shook the ground and how he just couldn’t stop crying. I remember how fragile I am, how little of me there is now. 

I remember that the only real version of me left rests within her heart, that the real me will die the same time as her. Yet my body will keep living, keep going, because no matter how many skies fall I need to keep going. Because I don't get to stop when I’m tired, I won’t let myself. I stop when I’m dead. 

And the loss of you would kill me, if it were to happen when I care this much about you. I remember that sometimes, in order to survive, you must turn off your mind. 

And so the monster inside me claws,

The walls of my soul it shreds, 

My mind begins to melt, 

As my body fills with dread. 

I stood at the edge of a small meadow, one that I’ve hardly ever come to in all the days of my life, and that’s the moment I knew the monster in his head had won. A whisper had finally found a home. Already the air hardly squeaked by my throat and into my lungs, I prepared them for complete starvation. 

Then he was there, in front of me but far from close and air didn’t even matter anymore. Nothing ever matters when I was with Legolas, the sweetest green leaf that ever did grow. My Greenleaf. By the looks of it, for the last time. 

I look into those eyes I hold so dear and find every inch of them cold and lifeless. Every single trace of anything even close to fondness. In the eyes I used to be able to read all the words he could never quite bring himself to say, all I saw was the monster looking back out at me. 

I could feel the dread that held him tighter than a child and knew that he wanted to be here, doing this even less than I did. But I also knew that if he had come this far then there would be no changing his mind. 

I speak before he does: 

“Go ahead and tell a lie,

Break your heart, 

Then shatter mine. 

Don’t bother to say goodbye, 

Just leave me here to live or die.” 

The lump in my throat is tighter than a fist, and I cannot swallow past it. He just stares at me, holding less expression than a muddy riverbank. Those eyes just stare at me. Attached to that mouth that always promised he would never hurt me, never break me, could never stand me see me cry. 

To see me catch. 

Its not a lump that I’m choking on, but the sweet bitterness of his lie. 

“It’s not a lie, Avaleina.” He says to me, voice holding the same void as the blackness that holds the stars at night. Forced, I know. But it does not make it hurt any less. “Go home, go find somebody who can love you.” 

“No,” I say. The words hardly more than a gasped plea but I have nothing left to offer, “I’ll never walk away from you. I’ll never leave you.” 

“Then I’ll leave you,” He says. He doesn't turn back. 

My heart burns. 

The flames feed off his lies. 

* * *

  
  
  


Almost is my least favorite word, because it bleeds into every aspect of my life. Turning every happy thought into an almost happy thought. Constantly reminded me that I’ve;

Almost had a happy life. 

Almost won the war. 

Almost had the love of my life 

Almost felt alright.

Almost want to live to see another night. 

I just hate that normally I’m fine, 

But sometimes I get sick. 

It's just there's this thing, 

That lives inside my head. 

That's how I know,

The monsters will always be,

Several steps ahead of you, 

And countless ahead of me. 

So you and I will always stay,

Destined to forever be,

Just one touch, 

One taste, 

One moment, 

Too late. 

I walk into his room, the doors open for me automatically and it makes me smile to know that while he might have convinced himself enough to tear himself away from him verbally. He had not torn away himself enough that his bedroom doors stopped to open for her automatically. 

He isn’t here, she knows that. He left several days ago, purposefully before she had returned home, on purpose, she knew. But that did not matter. She was not here to talk to him, because she knew that he would never let himself talk to her. 

Because then they would have the exact conversation they both knew that they would have, the conversation that would bleed the monster from his thoughts and his mind. The one that would bring him back to where he knew he needed and wanted to be above all else. 

With her. 

If only he was not so afraid, so vulnerable to the voice. She leaves the letter on his pillow and leaves without a second glance:

‘My love, you will be surprised,

At how quickly it begins. 

Forgetting where you start

And forgetting where you end. 

Who knew it would be so easy, 

To lose yourself completely. 

In the name of love,

The name of protection, 

And the name of self-eradication. 

You will be surprised, my love,

How quickly it all happens.

You’re so scared of love 

I never stood any chances.

You won't even get to say goodbye, 

As yourself suddenly passes.’ 

  
  


* * *

  
  


“Have you spoken with Ava recently, do you know how she is doing?” I ask Farlen who lounges in the best next to me, carelessly devouring several helpless grapes at once. “I heard what happened to her patrol.”

I know he knows that I have done what I have said. I know that he doesn't agree with it, but he has never said it to me. Probably never well, he has informed me in detail about my opinions on love more than I can or would like to count. 

“Depends who’s asking,” He says with a sly smile, popping a few more grapes into his mouth. 

“If it’s me?” I ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Who’s Ava again?” Farlen responds with extreme dramatized confusion, even knowing that was the reaction that was coming, I still glare at him. He sends a mock one back to me, “If you want to know so badly why do you not go and ask her?”

“You know why.” 

“Then you are dumber than I thought.” Farlen says with slight aggitgation. 

“You have known me all these years, and this is the first time you have finally noticed that?” I ask him with a feigh of good humor. 

“No, I thought I finally came to terms with your real intelligence, and then you go and pull this. Legolas, I love you, you are one of my favorite souls in this entire world. But I’m tired of watching you ruin your own, I’m tired of you crawling darker and darker into the arms of the darkness while somebody who wants to do nothing but share her light calls for you.” 

I’m silent for a while while I contemplate his words and he lovingly takes my hands. Silent support has always been his strength, “Sometimes honest feelings and bad timing really can be the most painful combination.” 

“Do you remember that poem Ferdan used to tell us?” 

“Yes.” 

Farlen apparently decided that I don't and recounts it anyways, “The woods are lovely, dark, and deep. 

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go yet before I sleep.” 

“I said I remember,” I snapped at him, because I already know what point that he is trying to make. 

“You have lost yourself deeply in there, Legolas. So deeply. I think the only thing that might be able to help you find your way home now is the string of your promises. The one that ties you to her light.” 

I don't say anything. I don't have anything to say. 

“You’re already so lost in the dark that all that matters now is how you walk through the fire.” 

* * *

When I come home late in the night, I know that somebody had entered my room and is waiting for me. I want to hope that its Legolas, but I know that it won’t be. When I push the door open, I find Farlen sitting in his favorite chair by the fire.

He holds his arms out for her and she hastents into them quickly, sobbing, “It's so hard to mourn somebody that’s still alive.”

  * * * *

  
  




The fires of their celebration dance across every surface with countless beautiful designs. I sit next to my father and watch it all unfold, each guest even more best dressed than the next. I must admit it's a bit exhausting to witness, but he has nothing much else to do or anything else to capture his attention. 

Then I feel the familiar burn of fire from the world's strongest fire and my ears burn and tingle with warmth as they bask in the kindest warmth in the world's creation: Her genuine voice ringing with laughter. 

I look over to her and cannot help but gasp when I behold her. She is simply dressed compared to all, but the center of attention. Because she wore her scars as sparkling best attire, a stunning dress made of nothing but hellfire. 

When your eyes reach across the crowd to catch mine, the desire to go and dance with you nearly burns me alive. The monster within me screams in pain as it much prefers the darkness it has carefully cultivated. 

I get up and leave. 

I hate that I’m only ready to face my mistakes when you’re far away from me. 

* * *

Everytime I step out into the dark I remember the words of an old children's book. ‘A witch ought never be afraid of a dark forest, because if she is to walk in, she should be sure that she is the scariest thing held within.’ 

I knew that I was not the absolute scariest thing in the woods, but in order to keep doing this job I had to convince herself otherwise. Which is how I became so hot that I could promise that whatever didn’t kill her had better run, because only the gods would be able to show them mercy now. 

Because no matter what was done to me or I made myself, I would make myself a reckoning. And from the piles of my ashes, I promise I will rise.

The question when it comes to me will always be ‘Who’s going to let you?’ but 

‘Who’s going to stop me?’ 

I learned long ago that anger can be useful, wrath is more powerful, but rage it what is devastating. So if I shall burn down in this fire, I’ll make sure that you burn with me. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


When I get there, I arrive violently. It does not even take me seconds to take in the scene before I make a realization, actually all it took was one look at the arrow in her neck. 

I used to be afraid of the darkness because I thought the monsters would get me, but maybe not all monsters are bad. I will always be a monster, there is not going back for me now, but what is still left up to me is exactly what time. Already I’m a different monster than I was a year ago, and now I stopped fighting my inner demons. We’re on the same side. 

I was lost in the darkness, and so the darkness I became. But instead of hiding in the shadows, I use it to desperately protect the flame. And now, the dark is afraid of me. 

* * *

  
  


I can hardly hear a sound, hardly feel a thing. 

Until I feel you take my hand, and then whisper to me: 

“What love could you find, 

For a hear such as mine?

There's nothing left but ribbons,

To sew together with endless stitches, 

My soul is sick and weary, 

And my body aches with pains,

Yet somehow you still hold me close,

And love me all the same.” 

* * *

  
  


My hand wields the knife that stabbed me in the heart, my own blood is on my hands. I watch as the rest of my innocence pours out, once upon it was red, but now all that’s left is dark. 

I sat there and drank my grief like fine wine, or maybe my old dark thoughts. But not even my own ways could disguise the difference between pleasure and pain. 

You are the best thing in my life, the best thing in life overall. 

I must have closed my eyes, so that I would not see how far I had let myself fall. 

* * *

  
  


When I woke for longer than a few seconds, I learned that several weeks had passed. And that he had sat by my bedside for all of them, leaving only days before when another captain had returned home injured. 

I go to nod, before realizing agonizing pain is brought at the slightest head movement. Ferdan reaches out to steady my head, rearranging the pillows once more to prevent movement. With kind eyes and a comforting pat he places a large green leaf into my hand and says, “I will be back soon with fresh tea for myself.” 

Once he is gone, I read what had so carefully been written. 

“You asked what I’m afraid of,

And the answer has always been you. 

I’m afraid of what I feel for you,

And the damage it can do.

I hate how I refuse to be at ease,

At the fact that while the forest brings me peace.

The thunder brings me hope,

The sun can bring a light, 

It's only you that can be my home.” 

On the back of the leaf, written in huge print Legolas seemed to have written

* * *

again, just in case the message had not been clear enough: 

“Im, so, so, so, so sorry Ava. I know you can’t go through that again, and you won’t have to. I know you cannot believe me, and I cannot expect you too. But I promise that I will never hurt you like that ever again. 

And so I’ll start small, and just ask you for a dance”

> * * *
> 
>   
>    
> 

By the time I finally see her again, she has already returned to duty. But eventually fates line up for us, and she is set to return a few days after me. I have lied awake every night since I have learned this, and tonight is no different. 

Except tonight I’m sitting on the couch, and not laying in bed. I had tried to feingh that I was not consumed with anticipation, but could not even convince myself. 

When the handle to my room turns, I’ve leapt to my feet before I’m even aware. My heart claws to my throat when I see her face, and my eyes immediately begin to weep. She smiled softly to me, and the most radiant light covered my room. 

A new deep, fresh scar at the base of her throat catches my eyes for a brief moment, but it is of little interest to me compared to her eyes. Her smile. 

My knees go weak as Avaleina says, “Don’t say anything, just come and dance with me.” 

Vaougly I’m aware of the monster within me screaming, burning to ash in the center of her fire. 


End file.
